


Different Theres and Elsewheres (A Love Poem)

by ozmissage



Category: Lost
Genre: F/M, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2009-06-28
Updated: 2009-06-28
Packaged: 2017-10-17 23:29:42
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,600
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/182512
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ozmissage/pseuds/ozmissage





	Different Theres and Elsewheres (A Love Poem)

  


 

I.

There is a world where Sawyer never jumps from the helicopter. A world where he never comes crawling out of the ocean, salt and sand clinging to his skin, to fall at her feet, to see her as if for the first time.

In this world he returns home with the rest of them. The papers paint him as the scoundrel, the rogue, his charm cuts through the reputation. He becomes a celebrity and he hates every minute of it.

He passes through Los Angeles every other month and rents a room at the hotel by the airport. Kate meets him there with liquor and a smile. They have sex to the sound of airplanes taking off and landing. Afterwards he runs his fingers through her hair and asks her to stay.

“I can’t, Aaron’s waiting.” She looks apologetic, he’s not sure why. They’ve done this dance before and they’ll do it again.

“Kid’s got a nanny, right?”

“You could come back with me, you know?”

He couldn’t.

“Nah, I might as well get my money’s worth.” He grins like it doesn’t mean anything.

She kisses him and leaves without looking back. He lies across the bed after she’s gone and thinks of the island. He remembers the way she felt the first time they kissed, he remembers the wildness in her, the darkness. It seems like a dream now, hazy and half forgotten.

Kate is settled. Her wild locks pulled back in a tidy bun, no dirt smudged across her freckled cheeks. She’s a mother for God’s sake. She’s not running from anything anymore. Her laugh is lighter, her eyes softer somehow. He feels like a bastard for thinking it, but he misses the darkness.

Hell, he misses the damn island. He wonders what it would have been like if he had had the courage to jump. Maybe he would have taken charge. Maybe he could have had his turn at playing the hero. Nah, he thinks, he’ll never be cut out for that sort of thing.

His mind drifts to the ones they left behind. He doesn’t think about them much, the truth is everybody he cared about on that island either ended up dead before he left or came back with him. Still he wonders how they are, if they’ve all been eaten by the smoke monster or if they just go about their days like nothing has changed. Rose, Bernard, Miles, Juliet---the thought of the blonde makes him smirk. She was a smartass. He hasn’t thought of her since he left. He doesn’t really give a damn about her, she tasered his ass to the ground too easily for him to bother shedding any tears over her well-being. Still, that night lying in a hotel room with the sound of people coming and going hanging in the air, the taste of Kate still on his lips, he’s not sure why, but he hopes that she’s okay.

In this world he thinks of her only once.

II.

There is a world where Sawyer stays on the sub. He drinks his orange juice with Juliet and they fall asleep holding hands. They wake up with their heads full of fog and their mouths dry. They emerge from the sub shading their eyes from the light.

“You ready?” He says it low so that only she can hear.

“Absolutely.” She flashes a grim smile at him before smashing her elbow into the face of the Dharma man at her side. Sawyer does the same to the man next to him.

“Come on,” he grabs her hand and they are running along the dock, pushing their way into the crowd. There are too many people pressing against them, too many sounds filling the air, after so many years on the island the effect is dizzying. He is afraid suddenly that he’ll lose her; that the crowd will swallow her up and they won’t be able to find each other again. He tightens his grip on her hand and grins at her over his shoulder as they run.

“Don’t let go,” he shouts.

In this world she never does.

III.

There is a world where Sawyer finds himself on the ground with a shotgun pointed at her chest. She is calmly holding a gun to Kate’s head.

“Put the gun down, James.”

There is something in her eyes. He believes that she would kill Kate without blinking, but he also believes she doesn’t think she’ll have to. He pulls the trigger and the shot hits her in the chest, Kate screams and jerks away. The blonde falls to the ground, a bright red stain creeps across her blue shirt. The camp is still for a moment, too shocked to react, then Kate picks up the gun that has slipped from the dead woman’s hand and she’s tugging Sawyer’s sleeve.

“We have to run, Sawyer.”

He nods and they take off, he catches a glimpse of the woman’s face as they move past her. He expected a look of shock, something twisted and angry, but her features are soft and peaceful. He thinks she looks relieved.

Pickett and Tom catch them before they make it to the beach. Pickett beats the hell out of Sawyer until all he can taste is his own blood, until his eyes are so swollen he can barely see. Then they dump him back in his cage across from Kate.

Tom stands in front of the cage for a moment, just staring at him until Sawyer can’t take it anymore.

“What,” he snarls.

“She was a good person, she didn’t deserve that,” Tom’s voice is low and angry.

Sawyer snorts.

“She was one of you and ain’t none of you good people.”

Even as he says the words he sees her face in his head, still and calm. He remembers her tossing the canteen to him, just moments before he shot her, a smile playing on her lips. He feels his stomach clinch.

“It’ll come back around, Ford,” Tom says bitterly.

Sawyer watches the large man retreat, shoulders sagging.

“What was her name?”

Tom only half turns to look at him, his voice wavering as he says, “Juliet. Her name was Juliet.”

In this world, her name is all he will ever know.

IV.  
   
There is a world where Sawyer is close enough to save her. He sees the chain wrap around her waist and watches as they pull her to the ground. He feels fear seep into every part of him, but he pushes it down. He’ll never be sure how he moves so quickly, but somehow he manages to pull himself over the debris to catch the chain before she goes over the edge.

He digs his heels into the ground and groans as he pulls against the force that is dragging her away from him. The chain cuts into his hands, making them slick with blood, but he doesn’t let go, he doesn’t give an inch.

He gets close enough to wrap an arm around her waist and he pulls her between his legs. The endless darkness of the well looms below them, they sit on the brink. He uses his feet to anchor them.

“Where do you think you’re going, Blondie?”

She looks up at him, her eyes full of fear. He can feel her back arching against him in pain as the chain squeezes her legs.

“James…you’ve got to let go.” He follows her gaze to the structure teetering dangerously above them. “It’s going to fall…”

“I got you,” he says through gritted teeth. He tightens his grip around her waist and uses his other hand to unwind the chain. He feels her slip a few inches and shouts, “You hold on to me!” He feels her fingernails digging into his leg in response.

It only takes moments to free her. He flings the chain away and they watch it fall down the endless well, into the darkness, away from them. He pulls them backwards, away from the edge and she leans against him breathing heavily.

“Thank you,” she says.

He grins at her and tries to keep his voice steady as he replies, “You going to stop trying to leave me now?”

She laughs an easy, joyful sound in the chaos around them.

“Absolutely.”

In this world, her voice will be the last thing he ever hears.

V.

There is a world where she looks like an easy mark. Sawyer is in Miami, just passing through really, when he stops at a bar looking for some distraction. He finds it in the form of a leggy blonde drowning her sorrows in a bottle of rum.

He sizes her up. There’s a ring on her finger, she’s dressed like a women who is not accustomed to looking for men in bars, she touches her glass too much, gorgeous but doesn’t know how to use it---just his type. She could be an easy con or a quick lay and he’s not feeling picky tonight. As far as he’s concerned Florida still owes him for the Tampa job.

He approaches her with an easy grin, making sure to flash his dimples.

“Hey there sweetheart, you got the time?”

She looks at him and arches one eyebrow.

“Is that a line?”

He laughs, “Depends on your answer.”

The corner of her lips twitch ever so slightly, but she keeps her expression blank as she takes a sip of her rum.

“It wasn’t a very good one.”

“Never heard any complaints before, Blondie.”

She smiles this time and cocks her heard a little to one side, considering him. He’s beginning to feel good about his prospects.

“You want to sit down?” She gestures to the empty seat next to her.

This is easier than he thought it was going to be.

“Don’t mind if I do,” he takes a seat in the chair. “You got a name?”

She doesn’t miss a beat. “Blondie, apparently.”

He chuckles and pours himself a splash of her rum. “Touché. How about a real name?”

She hesitates and he can see her forehead crease slightly. He thinks he may have pushed too hard, but then she begins to speak, her voice sad and just a touch desperate.

“I came to this bar tonight to do something I would never do,” she holds up her left hand so that he can see the diamond ring on her finger.

He whistles low, “That’s some rock.”

She nods. “This meant something to me. It meant nothing to my husband. I caught him screwing his lab assistant in my office. My office. She wasn’t even the first. He has been making a fool out of me for years, and I let him. I want him to know how it feels, but I can’t do that if I’m myself. So, I need you to let me be “Blondie” tonight, okay? I’ll be Blondie and you can be whoever you want to be. You up for that?”

Sawyer doesn’t need to consider it.

“Sure, Blondie, anything you want.” He extends his hand and makes the truth sound like a lie. “I’ll be James.”

She takes his hand in her own and gives a gentle squeeze, before finishing off her drink in one swallow. Liquid courage, he thinks. He does the same with his own.

“You want to get out of here, James?”

“I really do.”

He lets her take him back to her house. She is not the first woman who wanted him to have sex in another man’s bed. She presses him against the wall before the bedroom door is shut. She kisses him like she has something to prove and he finds himself more than willing to let her prove it.

She murmurs, “I’ve never done this before,” as she tugs him to the bed. He’s heard that line before, but there’s something in her voice that tells him it’s the truth.

Her hand slinks southward and he feels a shiver run down his spine. When he sinks into her she looks up at him and says his name. He has never heard a woman say his real name in this particular situation before. It makes something inside of him ache.

He fucks her like he hasn’t fucked anyone in years. He fucks her as if he’s never fucked anyone before. She keeps her eyes on his the whole time and this excites him and frightens him all at once. When they come, they come together.

She arches her back, drawing him further into her and he thrusts back to meet her. He mutters an exhausted, “son of a bitch” as he falls forward, burying his head in her neck.

She wraps her arms around him, and runs her fingers through his hair.

“Thank you,” she says, pressing a kiss on his damp forehead.

“Thank me?”

She giggles, in response.

She doesn’t let him stay long afterwards. He wants a second go, but she makes up some excuse about getting into work early. He knows the drill. She kisses him goodbye, gentle this time, so soft and easy that it breaks him a little.

“It was nice to meet you, James.”

He doesn’t know why he does it, but he cups her face in his hand before he leaves and runs a thumb over her lips. He smiles at her without any of the bravado he had at the bar.

“You too, Blondie.”

In this world, he will never see her again.

VI.

There is a world where Sawyer breaks her heart without meaning to and she shatters his in turn.

“Maybe we were never supposed to be together.”

He doesn’t argue with her. He doesn’t try to change her mind. He doesn’t tell her he loves her. The first domino is tipped and it is already too late.

Then she is falling and he’s holding on, begging her to not to let go, but she does. She lets go and he cannot see the next part.

He doesn’t see her land (but he imagines her breaking), he doesn’t see her wake up alone at the bottom of the well, he never hears her invoke him with her last breath (“Come on, you son of a bitch!”), but he does see the world go white.

He hears her voice in his head, “ _If I never meet you, then I never have to lose you_.”

The force of her actions reverberates across all times and places, through all versions of them. In every place they are and every place they will be they feel it.

Somewhere Sawyer wakes up in the night, a cold sweat dampens his skin, and he shivers. Juliet hugs him from behind, pressing a kiss between his shoulder blades.

“You okay?”

Her voice is thick with sleep.

He takes a deep breath, trying to slow his racing heart.

“Yeah,” he says. “Just a bad dream.”

He pulls her hand to his lips and kisses it softly, before lacing his fingers through hers.

Her breath is shallow against his back, she’s already asleep again.

“I love you,” he whispers into the dark.

In this world, this will always be true.

 

 _Here when I say “I never want to be without you,”_

 _somewhere else I am saying_

 _“I never want to be without you again.” And when I touch you_

 _in each of the places we meet_

 _in all of the lives we are, it’s with hands that are dying_

 _and resurrected._

 _When I don’t touch you it’s a mistake in any life,_

 _in each place and forever._

 _\---Bob Hicok_

 

 

 


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